


My Lady Disdain

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Beatrice et Benedict, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Prompt: when Carlotta and Piangi first met?





	My Lady Disdain

Piangi would have liked to say that the Opera Populaire begged to hire him, his reputation being what it was. Instead, he was more the one to beg them, albeit with as much dignity as he could muster. His old opera house in Italy had fired him after he slept with a certain woman, an important man’s wife, and so willy-nilly he had been sent scuttling off out of the country. Now the Opera Populaire was a good place for a singer, very well-to-do, but in fact he was the one forced to make the change in this case. And having the choice, he really would have preferred to stay in Italy.

What’s more, the managers, Debienne and Poligny, clearly knew the situation he was in and made the most of it. They hemmed and hawed about hiring him, hedging here and there, until he finally accepted a less favorable contract than he deserved. Nevertheless, he was glad to have it. An opera singer without work was a pitiful sight, after all, especially one as reputable and talented as Piangi.

“You’ll be singing Benedict in _Beatrice et Benedict_ ,” Debienne told him when they had settled such plebeian matters as his salary.

“And my Beatrice?”

“Madame Carlotta Giudicelli.”

La Carlotta, then.

Piangi had heard a little about La Carlotta, so it was not exactly a surprising choice. She had a reputation, but only in Paris and only quite recently. It seemed to him the kind of appreciation that came from rich patrons’ pants and not the general admiration of the people.

Poligny said, “She’s quite a singer, La Carlotta.” His fond smile did nothing to raise her in Piangi’s opinion—more the smile of a lover than of a manager. Certainly none of his managers had ever smiled about him that way, expression tinged with indulgent amusement. No, they tended to smile a bit too brightly and say, “Well, he’s Ubaldo Piangi, of course we’re proud,” while holding themselves back from complaining about his ego or how he sometimes caused trouble.

Debienne’s expression was a bit more of that type. “You may find her a bit difficult to work with,” he said, smiling with a bit more strain. “Please be patient with her. Really something of a genius when it comes down to it, you just have to get used to her.”

Piangi translated that to, “Please be patient with her because everyone else has to be and we’re suffering too.”

“I’m sure I’ll be glad to meet Madame Giudicelli,” he said politely. “And very happy to work with her.”

He missed Italy.

* * *

 

He first met Carlotta at the first rehearsal. Debienne took the time out of his busy schedule to introduce them. Complimentary, really, the first way either of the managers had really acknowledged that Piangi deserved acknowledgment of his status and experience.

“Madame Carlotta, this is Monsieur Piangi. He will be the Benedict to your Beatriz. Piangi, Carlotta.”

Piangi shook hands with Carlotta and was surprised by the force of her grip. There was nothing simpering about the way she looked at him, either—the socialite in her perhaps only surfaced for patrons and people of importance. To Piangi she offered the gaze of a judge, sweeping over his body analytically before refocusing on his face. “I have heard of you,” she said.

“And I of you.” Piangi bowed slightly. “All of Paris admires you, madam.”

He might have expected her to preen, but she did not. Instead she seemed just short of rolling her eyes. She said, in a sharp, acute tone of voice, “I’m concerned about your accent.”

“Pardonnez-moi?”

“You come from Italy. That will be splendid for Rossini or Verdi but how will you play a Benedict?” She frowned. “You sound Italian, monsieur.”

Piangi frowned back. Carlotta, he knew, was from Spain herself. She did not have an accent, though, so there was nothing to attack from that angle. Instead he said, “I will try my best to keep up with you, madam.”

It was at this comment that Carlotta smiled. “I’m sure you will do fine.”

He couldn’t tell whether she was sincere or not.

The practice, however, went better than he had expected. The chorus was off, but choruses were always off on the first day. New recruits brought a lack of balance, and the new arrangement always caused confusion in some way or another. But all the lead singers were good. As for Carlotta…

He found himself wondering if both Debienne and Poligny were deaf. Having heard Carlotta, he could never have acted long suffering about her or quietly indulgent. She was not a little diva with cute ideas as to how to play a character or an overblown but mediocre talent. No. Not even close.

She was magnificent.

First day on the opera, and she already had a good grasp of the libretto and, what was better, of the character she was playing. He loved, adored, the way she played Beatrice. Her singing was lovely and bold but with a touch of sauciness and a touch of flirtation. He loved how she sang as she shut Benedict down. She did not try to make the character sweet or soft, as some might have attempted, but neither did she veer into aggressive nastiness and vilify her either. The balance was right: Rude but with an edge of sexuality and amusement.

He had not heard Beatrice sung many times before, but he thought of the Beatrices he had heard, she would be, with a little more practice, the best.

As for himself, he strove to match her. His Benedict was not as fully fleshed out as hers yet, but at least he hit the notes consistently, and he hoped the emotion came out well too. By performance time, he resolved to make himself her perfect foil. They could be the kind of duo that made patrons stop thinking about Carlotta with their pants and perhaps admire her true genius.

When a break occurred in the rehearsal, he took her aside. “Beautiful,” he told her. “Your acting is superb. I think we can do quite a good job together—Ah, I begin to get excited about this opera! You and I, we will be magnificent! We will make them want to laugh and cry.”

Carlotta was taken aback at the force of his excitement, but she smiled more happily than before. “Really you think so? I am a bit excited myself.”

The chorus director broke into their conversation. “Monsieur Piangi, we’re excited to have you with us.”

Carlotta gave him a look of annoyance.

“I’m glad to be your new director. I’m sure in a few weeks you’ll be fully incorporated into our little family. Just a quick note, your accent…”

“Is this really of such importance?” Carlotta said.

Piangi said, “I am working to pronounce the French as authentically as possible, to convey the soul of the composer. I hope I do not disappoint you.”

Carlotta glared at the director.

The director cleared his throat. “Very well then. I hope we get along well. Perhaps we will talk again sometime soon.” He scurried away.

“You should not have scared him,” Piangi said reprovingly. “Critique is important to anyone if they need to improve.”

“Anyone can see you are already doing your best. And if he doesn’t know to respect you, he’ll walk all over you.” Carlotta tossed her head. “They say they tossed you out of the opera house in Italy. Here, you must learn the politics.”

“And you intend to teach me?”

“If I must.” Carlotta touched his arm, then, when he looked at her questioningly, hurriedly put her hand at her side. “Well, I must go get a drink before we start again. I will be back in a minute.”

As he watched her walk away, he found his own smile to be a bit amused after all. An interesting diva, this one. He could not picture someone better suited to play Beatrice.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was from wheel-of-fish on Tumblr. Have to say I never really gave Carlotta and Piangi's first meeting much thought before, so this was kind of fun.  
> (Title is a reference to Much Ado About Nothing. Doesn't exactly suit because Carlotta isn't that bad here but oh well, still a good quote.)  
> Comments and kudos always welcome :)


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